


Champagne on a Monday

by Starlinghue



Category: Neo Yokio
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Rivalry, Romance, Sexual Tension, Spoilers, magic showboating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlinghue/pseuds/Starlinghue
Summary: Kaz has been bummed out since Helena fled the city, and it's becoming increasingly suspicious that Arcangelo isn't avidly trying to ruin his life.





	Champagne on a Monday

**Author's Note:**

> you ever start shipping something as a joke and then

In the weeks following Helena's escape, Kaz allowed himself to seep back into a familiar state of depression. In spite of himself, Helena's words against the city had gotten to him, and Kaz now felt guilty falling back in step with his old routine. Even getting dragged out of bed by his aunt to exorcise demons felt meaningless, though his ability to do his job properly never suffered, no matter how empty Kaz felt.

In a true extension of friendship, Lexy and Gottlieb took Kaz for celebratory days out on the town, showering him with the thrall of material objects. Kaz tried to get into it, he really did, but around the eighth or ninth store he usually couldn't take it anymore and excused himself, embarrassed and ashamed.

Something had been off balance since the Grand Prix and the bachelor board bombing. The city, once dazzling and full of luxury, seemed like a hoax, a ticking time bomb ready to reveal its ugly nature at any moment. Kaz wanted more than anything to go back to blissful ignorance, but instead he found himself regularly staring off into the distance in a state of total melancholy. He understood now why Helena had been so miserable.

On particularly chilly day, nearly a month later, Kaz decided splurge the money from his latest exorcism to buy himself a new jacket. Slowly dipping his toes back into shopping for pleasure, Kaz found that he didn't feel so uncomfortable when he only went in small doses. 

The clerk greeted him with the usual barrage of recommendations and a "So nice to see you again, Mr Kaan!"

Quietly wandering over to inspect Guicci's latest fall line, Kaz almost didn't notice Arcangelo peering at him from across the store. When they made eye-contact, Kaz expected a snide comment, maybe even a snarky laugh. To his surprise, however, Arcangelo raised his hand and gave a wave. Not quite friendly, but definitely not unfamiliar.

This was quite odd, as Kaz had assumed with the board up and running again, Arcangelo would be at his throat competing for the title as most honorable bachelor, their temporary alliance forgotten. Then, as if things couldn't get any more perplexing, Arcangelo walked leisurely over to Kaz's side and began looking over the coats with him. 

After a few stunned moments, Kaz watched Arcangelo promptly pull out a well-pressed, navy blue cardigan, similar to the one Kaz was currently wearing.

"I see why you like this colour, it does bring out your eyes. However, I think _this_ would have the whole west side swooning over you." Arcangelo held up the blue cardigan under Kaz's chin first, but then he switched it with a tweed one that was a shade of deep, warm burgundy.

"Are you messing with me?" Kaz asked, looking from the cardigan to his rival, worried this was some kind of elaborate prank. He liked the colour, but maybe it was hideous and he just couldn't tell in his woeful state.

"I never joke about fashion!" Arcangelo quipped, though Kaz thought he detected a hint of bashfulness in the way Arcangelo avoided looking directly at him.

Seeing no harm in trying it on, Kaz carefully took the cardigan. When Arcangelo began to grin, however, Kaz felt immediately distrustful again. "Why are you helping me?"

"B- Because!" Arcangelo spluttered, which was another surprise, as Kaz wasn't used to seeing him lose his cool. "You've been so bummed since the Grand Prix. I know we're competing again, but I did have fun that weekend, you know? When we hung out?"

"Oh," said Kaz, who had entirely expected him to go back to being a huge dick now that the bachelor board was back in place. He supposed even someone as narcissistic as Arcangelo wasn't so shallow as to forget their brief truce. "So what does that mean? You still want to be my homie?"

Arcangelo flushed pink, "Hardly, we're on opposite teams here, it's not like we can just damn it all and pretend to be friends again. But— even though I'm much better looking than you— there's no fun in being number one when you don't put up a decent fight."

Having made his point, Arcangelo gave the cardigan in Kaz's hands a light shove, pushing it against the latter's chest. Dumbstruck, Kaz looked up just in time to see an expression of fondness on Arcangelo's usually smug face.

That was when he finally understood, after all those years, what Arcangelo got out of antagonizing him.

"Dude," Kaz felt strangely happy, "You totally miss me being around to make fun of, don't you?"

If Arcangelo were surrounded by his usual group of respectable friends, he might've laughed in Kaz's face right then. But, because they were alone, tucked in the corner of the store surrounded by designer labels, Arcangelo said nothing, and turned a even more brilliant shade of pink.

"God, you're so lame." Arcangelo gritted out at length, and Kaz now felt better than he had in ages. There was something so delightful about this private little victory, that Kaz found himself buying both the burgundy and the blue cardigan on his way out.

 

...

 

The victory of the cardigan was short-lived, as Kaz got a bit unlucky when he was trying to extract a demon from his latest client's fireplace, and the poor sweater got scorched in the process.

It shouldn't have upset him so much, there were plenty more cardigans were that came from, but Kaz felt strangely defeated by its loss. He moped for the remainder of the day, complaining about the unfortunate event continuously to his new mecha-butler, a model that did not hold the same dutiful patience of Charles.

"Sir, if you're really so upset, I suggested you just go buy a new coat."

Ignoring this, Kaz went to visit Lexy and Gottlieb instead, but found their little dive bar filled with customers. He caught a glimpse of Lexy laughing over the heads of the patrons and decided that he would come back later.

Walking alone in the city, Kaz let himself settle into a fit of melodramatic gloom. In truth, he was pleased he had been able to get so attached to a material object again; if he kept this up, he wouldn't drive himself crazy with thoughts about the cruelty of capitalism like Helena had.

What was he even doing with his life?

"Kaz?" A familiar, haughty voice sounded from Kaz's left, and he was met with the sight of a rather disheveled looking Arcangelo, who had one foot in his Lamborghini.

"Oh, it's you. Wait— are you drunk?" Kaz took in Arcangelo's appearance more carefully, and it seemed he'd just gotten back from clubbing. He looked as though he'd been manhandled from multiple angels. For some reason, this annoyed Kaz quite a bit. How dare Arcangelo be having fun while he was so miserable?

"Just a little..." Arcangelo slurred in a way that indicated he was much more drunk than he thought he was.

"You can't drive like that," Kaz hurried towards the car before Arcangelo could sit down.

"Oh, come on, I'm fine! Arcangelo whined, but when Kaz lightly nudged him away from the driver's seat, he stumbled backwards as though he'd been slapped.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Kaz sighed, "I'll take you home, I still owe you for the Helena thing."

With a frustrated huff, Arcangelo climbed into the passenger side, grumbling something unintelligible, though Kaz imagined it was about unreliable friends and designated drivers.

Once they were strapped in, Arcangelo made a dramatic show of hanging over his keys. "If you scratch my car, I'll kill you."

"Noted," Kaz rolled his eyes, jammed the keys into ignition, and listened to the engine rev alive. He hadn't been driving since the Grand Prix, and being in the same car as a shitfaced Arcangelo was not exactly the environment Kaz envisioned when he imagined himself behind the wheel again.

The roads weren't too busy, though pedestrian traffic caused more trouble than the other cars did. Arcangelo had seized control of the radio, and Kaz forced himself to stomach modern music for the fifteen minute drive to the East Side of the city.

"Hey," Arcangelo said after a mostly quiet drive, "Can you do that fire thing? With your hand? Like, right now?"

"It's not really _fire_ ," Kaz frowned, "But, sure, why not?"

His eyes fixed on the road ahead, Kaz summoned his spiritual energy and let it sizzle in the palm of his left hand, holding it out away from the steering wheel just enough that Arcangelo could see it. 

"Incredible," Arcangelo murmured, watching the aura flow from Kaz's hand. "I know I make fun of you for being a rat-trapper and everything but that's honestly pretty fucking cool."

Kaz had never been all that proud of his magical heritage; it always made him an embarrassment in high society, sticking out like a sore, demon-killing thumb. To hear Arcangelo, a perfectly normal, pampered aristocrat, gawking over his powers, Kaz was reminded of how awesome it had felt to learn magic growing up, how strong it used to make him feel as opposed to only seeing it as a burden. 

"I've never been able to do anything like that," Arcangelo murmured when Kaz stopped showing off. "Nothing that matters or makes a difference, at least."

"What about the bachelor board? It's considered an honour to be the reigning champion." Kaz furrowed his brows as he turned the car onto Arcangelo's street. He didn't like hearing him sound so melancholy. That was Kaz's trademark.

"It's just a stupid game, Kaz. Something Neo Yokio uses to add to its charm and to cover up all the other shit." Arcangelo laughed, and this was when Kaz realized how drunk he really was. There was no way in hell a remotely sober Arcangelo would diss the board.

"I can't believe you just said that, after all the shit we've given each other over the years." Kaz scoffed, but his heartbeat was accelerating. Helena had talked like this. Of flawed systems and revolutions.

Is that why Arcangelo was so quick to get on his good side when they had no reason to fight? Did Arcangelo only play along with the feud to keep up appearances?

"Kaz," Arcangelo mumbled as they pulled up in front of his apartment building. "How are you getting back to your side?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," Kaz lied, because he had contemplated stealing Arcangelo's car, if only to give them a reason to meet up and start arguing again.

"Come upstairs," Arcangelo sighed, and he dug his fingers into Kaz's sleeve for good measure.

At a loss, Kaz let himself be tugged from the car and into the apartment lobby. Arcangelo's family had old money, so he lived in the ritziest penthouse the East Side could provide. The doorman gave Arcangelo a respectful nod, but he raised an eyebrow when he saw Kaz dragging along after him.

"Aren't you worried about how this looks?" Kaz asked, and Arcangelo laughed again. His drunk laughs were so much more loose and familiar than the insulting ones Kaz was used to.

"I don't care how it looks," Arcangelo slurred, and as they entered the elevator, he draped his arms around Kaz's neck and shoulders, like he was going in for a hug. Or, maybe something a little less innocent.

"Hey," said Kaz, because he couldn't think of what else to say. Arcangelo sensed his apprehension and didn't lean in any closer, but he did give Kaz a very meaningful look. It was the same look Kaz had seen on Helena's face that one time in the Hamptons, only they had both been drunk, then.

"Kaz," Arcangelo said again, but there was something more to it this time. Something imploring and intimate.

Steeling himself, Kaz stepped away, letting Arcangelo's arms fall limply to his sides. "You're drunk, come on."

"Hm," Arcangelo smiled, but he looked hurt. "You really are better than me."

It was like a slap in the face. Kaz used to dream of Arcangelo saying these words, defeated and whimpering after a field hockey game, or some gentlemanly duel, and finally conceding defeat and reveling in Kaz's awesomeness. It used to seem so empowering.

But now, with Arcangelo sad and intoxicated, his words felt hollow. Almost cruel. Kaz wanted to hit him, but he also felt strangely compelled to cry.

"I'm taking your car," Kaz declared when the elevator stopped, "Don't try and stop me."

Arcangelo looked at him for a moment, not angry, not upset, but tired. He closed his eyes before stepping out into the hallway, turning his back on Kaz completely.

"Do what you must."

Kaz continued to watch after his retreating back even when the elevator doors were long past closed.

 

...

 

The Lamborghini had been in Kaz's possession for nearly a week, and still, there was no sign Arcangelo storming over to the West Side to come and get it back. Out of spite, Kaz took Lexy and Gottlieb for a drive and they had a good night on the town, partying and roaring through the streets. Even with this plastered all over the tabloids, Arcangelo made no move to retrieve the car.

It was maddening. First Kaz had been angry with Neo Yokio, and now he was pissed with Arcangelo in a way he never had been before. This wasn't just his typical determination to outdo him in everything. Kaz was worried. Infuriatingly and mind-numbingly worried.

Arcangelo had always been a constant in his life. No matter how depressed, heartbroken or miserable Kaz had gotten, Arcangelo had been an immovably smug bastard who was set on being his rival. But then he just had to go and act all friendly, he had to get drunk and look at Kaz like he was everything, and now Kaz couldn't figure out a way to strike back. He had already taken his car, what more could he do to make Arcangelo give a shit about him?

Sadie gave him advice, despite Kaz only venting to her out of frustration. 

"It seems to me like you need to hash it out. You know where he lives, so just go and confront him."

This idea had seemed pathetic to Kaz at first, waiting outside of Arcangelo's apartment like some kind of scorned lover. However, as the days went on, Kaz grew tired of seeing the Lamborghini in his parking lot.

Early Monday morning, Kaz drove to Arcangelo's apartment, parked the wretchedly expensive car out on the street, and stormed inside. The doorman didn't even try to stop him as he hurried for the elevator, which really made Kaz question the security of the place.

The closer he got to Arcangelo's floor, the more Kaz reevaluated his plan. Had he been too impulsive? Was he being an idiot? Would Arcangelo laugh in his face?

Then the doors opened and there was no sense turning back, so Kaz walked right into the penthouse with his head held high. The decor was a mix of modern and Victorian that fit together perfectly. Expensive art pieces were strewn across the wall, one of which looked like a painted portrait of Arcangelo's family. Kaz was so busy begrudgingly admiring the place that he almost didn't notice Arcangelo standing in the hall in front of him, his hair damp and wearing nothing but a robe.

"What are you doing here?" Arcangelo asked, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.

"I stole your fucking car!" Kaz yelled without thinking, and Arcangelo looked thoroughly taken aback by his outburst.

"Excuse me?"

"Your car! I've had it for over a week now and you haven't done anything. No nasty rumors, no revenge schemes, nothing!" Kaz was so angry he was starting to shake, how did Arcangelo not see how frustrating this was?

"You wanted me to fight back?" Arcangelo asked, tilting his head in a confused way.

"Don't pretend to be so oblivious!" Kaz snapped, "We're always fighting, that's what we do. You can't just drop out of my life like that! Is this some kind of joke to you?"

Arcangelo blinked, "What are you trying to say? You're mad that I didn't steal my car back?"

"Why do you think I took it in the first place?" Kaz hissed coldly, but it was only after he'd said this that he realized he had given too much away.

"You missed me," Arcangelo said, and Kaz had an eery sense of déja-vu. It was exactly what he had said when Arcangelo had helped him pick that cardigan. 

"I missed you," Kaz echoed dumbly, because now he was finally admitting it to himself.

Arcangelo strode over to where Kaz was standing in seconds, sporting a supermodel grin and an array of confidence that Kaz usually associated with a string of insults. Kaz didn't really think, he just grabbed Arcangelo by the lapels his stupid, cashmere bathrobe, and he held onto him like he might slip away any second.

"God, you're so annoying." Kaz muttered, and Arcangelo took his face in his hands and kissed him.

 

...

 

"Can I call you things like 'darling' and 'babe' now, or is that too much?" Arcangelo asked, lying flat on his back, naked and grinning. 

Somewhere along the line they had stumbled into bed and fucked like they were high on each other's presence alone. It was like tasting some kind of sweet champagne after hours of endless thirst. Kaz hated to admit that it was the best sex he'd had in a long time, better than Helena (though, to be fair, he couldn't remember much of that), and even better than Cathy.

Lying on his stomach, Kaz rolled over to look Arcangelo in the face and frown disapprovingly. " _Babe?_ "

"Just teasing," Arcangelo smirked, "It's so easy to rile you up."

"Don't go ruining the moment by being a jerk," Kaz muttered, but he couldn't resist laughing under his breath. Arcangelo scooted over and kissed him, drawing circles on his bare shoulder with one hand, fingers interlocking with Kaz's with the other.

"Let's go somewhere fun, get out of this city and take a wine tour, or whatever." Arcangelo mumbled, his voice low and heavy with want. "My family owns a private villa in Italy, I'd love to see you struggle to speak to the locals there."

"How do I know you wouldn't just maroon me there?" Kaz asked, but he was still in good humor. Arcangelo kissed down his neck and collarbone, humming contemplatively.

"I'm not one to abandon a perfectly good meal after only just tasting it." Arcangelo purred, and Kaz couldn't help snickering at him.

"Laying it on a little thick there, homie."

"You said homie," Arcangelo ignored Kaz's criticism and continued kissing along his neck. He was practically cooing, "You like me!"

"Ugh," Kaz grabbed a handful of Arcangelo's hair and crushed their lips together clumsily. "Why are you so obnoxiously hot?"

"Probably the same reason you're so terribly beautiful," Arcangelo shot back, and then he moaned as Kaz kissed him and palmed the inside of his thighs.

"So," Kaz panted, watching Arcangelo squirm under his touch, "Italy? You serious?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, yes." Arcangelo bucked his hips impatiently and Kaz grinned. He liked how in control he was, how his slightest touch was driving Arcangelo crazy.

"Okay," said Kaz, kissing his way down Arcangelo's abdomen, "Okay."

They took a plane out the next day, arguing all the way through packing and customs. On the bright side, every time Arcangelo got on his nerves, Kaz now had a very useful method of shutting him up.


End file.
